Lullaby
by KawaiiLilMarron
Summary: [Gojyo-Centric, Child Abuse] Gojyo remembers how he used to sing to his mother to soothe her suffering.


**Lullaby**

**Chapter 1**

**Gojyo's Point Of View.**

**A/N:** This fic was inspired by the song, _My Lullaby_ by Maria Mena. This song fits Gojyo so well. And I just realized that a while ago. Funny how that works.

**-o-**

I always loved my mother. I loved her so much.

She didn't love me though.

She had her moments, where she'd show some type of affection. Whenever I sung my lullaby, she'd grow calmer and sometimes would pat me on the head, more as if I was a dog then a person, but it didn't matter.

I loved those nights when she'd get dressed up to leave.

" Jien, Gojyo, I am going out tonight." She said. She always wore the same dress. It was red, tight and showed her every curve. She looked so beautiful with her red lipstick and earrings. And the smell of her cigarettes and perfume was almost heavenly.

When she was about to leave, I'd go up to her at the door, grab her by her dress and say, " You look pretty, mommy."

I'd see her eyes soften, but her face stayed the same and she'd brush me off and walk out the door, a few times she slammed by fingers in the door. I believed that was by accident. I believed she didn't really hate me, but felt she had to.

" Jien, why does mommy hate me?" I'd ask.

He'd always look at me and pat me on the head and say, " She doesn't hate you."

" Then why does she hurt me?" I asked, showing Jien the bruise on my head. I was only five then, I was confused about the things she did. I just took it and assumed that was how a child of my age was supposed to be treated. And Jien never really answered.

As I got older, and more attached to Jien, I started to wonder why I didn't look like him. He was my brother, but we didn't look the same. He had different colored hair and eyes. I also started to notice, mom only hit me, not Jien.

But everytime mom went out, I never stopped saying the same thing. And gradually, I started waiting up for her to come home. She'd walk in, sometimes with another man, but when she wasn't with a man, I'd sing my lullaby to her and she'd pet me on my head and fall asleep on the couch.

I liked it when she fell asleep while listening to me sing. It's just funny, cause she used to sing that to me.

And she never asked me **why** I sung it.

" Jien?" I asked one day. I had just turned eleven 3 weeks ago

" What Gojyo?"

" Why does mom like that lullaby so much?"

" Which one?" He asked. I sung a bit of it for him. " That one? Oh, she used to sing that one to you when you were a baby."

" So, she liked me when I was a baby?"

" She still likes you now."

" So why does she hit me?" I asked.

" It's...how she shows her affection." Jien sighed.

" But she doesn't hit you." I said. " She only hits me." I gasped, " Does that mean she loves me more then you?" He said excitedly.

" Gojyo, you shouldn't ask so many questions." Jien laughed.

So I brushed it off. I stopped asking so many questions. But as I got older, the lullaby 'technique' stopped working less and less.

She came home one night, an empty bottle of beer in her hand, and I sung for her like I always did, but she didn't sit down. She interrupted me and grabbed me by my neck. " Stop singing that song!" She yelled, her breath tainted by the alcohol.

" But, it helps you go to sleep." I muttered.

" The alcohol does! NOT YOU." She yelled, this hurt me so much. I wasn't soothing her, her alcohol was. I thought I was doing something right for her. " I hate it! Everytime I come home, I have you sitting there singing! I hate it!"

" I do it so you won't hit me!" I yelled back. " I hate it when you hit me! I love you mom, but you won't love me!" I yelled. She threw me on the ground and smashed the glass bottle against my back, the shards flying everywhere. My back was cut and it hurt.

" I raise you and give you a bed to sleep on and food to eat and that's how you treat me! I don't have to raise a cursed child like you!" She yelled, kicking me in the stomach. I started to cry as she left the room.

The lullaby didn't work this time.

It never worked. I just wanted to do something right.

But I always do something wrong.

Three days later, my face was scarred.

My life was sparred.

And my lullaby ended. I never sung it again.

**-o-**

**A/N:** Awwww...


End file.
